The Girl from a Thousand Fathoms, Chapter 76 – The Beginning

Mrs Woosencraft recognised the distinctive tone of the
Imperial as the car pulled up outside. Filled with trepidation she listened to
the doors open and close and the car move away. The knock on the door was no
surprise. Reluctantly she prepared herself, walked down the hall and opened her
front door. What would be, would be.

‘I’ve come for Morse,’ Tim said.
Beside him was the young golden-haired woman called Foxy Bolivia who Mrs
Woosencraft had glimpsed in the Mercedes yesterday, only yesterday.

Mrs Woosencraft could hardly keep
her eyes off Foxy. There was an aura of wildness about the woman. Not of
aggression but of freedom. She was someone who lived and was at home in the
wider world. The deeper world. The thought made Mrs Woosencraft’s mouth dry
with nerves.

She took in the weariness on
Tim’s face, the ill-fitting boiler-suit and the fact he had no shoes. Weariness,
and something else.

You’ve come through testing times, she thought. They have opened your eyes.

‘I’m glad you made it back,’ she
said.

Tim nodded. ‘Thank you.’

‘I’ll put the kettle on.’

Tim sat down on the sofa, picked
up Morse and scruffed the top of his head. ‘Tea would be lovely.’

Morse purred softly and pretended
to go back to sleep. If cats could smile…[1]

Mrs Woosencraft was almost but
not absolutely sure. Hope put a catch in her voice. One short conversation in
private… ‘Would you like to give me a hand in the kitchen, love?’

‘No.’

‘I could do with a hand.’

‘I’m sure you can cope.’

Mrs Woosencraft tried a different
tack. ‘That’s Tim’s cat, Morse. I’ve been looking after it for him.’

‘I see it.’

‘Not a cat person, are you?’ Mrs
Woosencraft said.

‘What are you supposed to make of
an animal that likes fish but won’t go out in the rain?’

Mrs Woosencraft bit her lip. It’s you, Foxy Bolivia. It really is you and
you are what they say you are. Oh, my goodness gracious me.

Even with that realisation, it
was cats they were talking about so she tried for the last word. ‘You’re not meant
to try to understand them. Just accept them for what they are.’

The simple of ritual of warming
the pot, spooning leaves and brewing was as calming as ever. Some of Mrs
Woosencraft self-confidence returned.

This was her house, after all,
she told herself. And that meant a fair bit, even in this day and age.

She carried the tray into the
back room. Tim and Morse occupied the sofa. Like Electra, Foxy had chosen the
armchair, the one the cats knew not to sit in.

She put the tray down, sat on the
piano stool and looked Foxy up and down.

And she could not help herself, she
was just too excited. Things hadn’t gone as she’d hoped (there had never been a
plan, just expectations). Yet now it looked as if it might now work out. She
rubbed her hands and beamed her best sweet little old lady smile.

‘You really are her, aren’t you? The
one we’ve all been looking for. The mermaid.’

Foxy looked down her nose at the
dumpy little old lady. ‘And you’re a witch.’

‘Oh, but I knew it! This is
wonderful, I’m so–’

‘You’re so sorry?’ Tim said sharply.

Mrs Woosencraft dipped her head. ‘Yes.
You are absolutely right. Listen to me go on.’ She pressed her hands together.
‘Tim, I am very sorry for deceiving you. I have not behaved like a friend.’

Tim looked at her steadily. So
did Morse.

Sitting on the piano stool with
her feet not quite touching the ground Mrs Woosencraft felt a little
interrogated. She bowed her head. ‘I’m sorry for the cat-napping too.’

She turned to Foxy. ‘And I’m very
sorry for what you’ve been through, pet. Markus Koponen isn’t a bad man.’

‘Wasn’t,’ Tim corrected. ‘The
last time we saw him he was trying to launch a boat from a sinking ship.’

That knocked her back. She’d known
bad things were coming but to have them confirmed– ‘He might have made it.’

‘So might Troy, but Imelda hurt
him badly.’ Tim sketched in the details of the fight and what had happened to
Koponen’s women.

‘I tried to warn Markus. You were
there Tim, you heard me.’ Mrs Woosencraft chewed her thumbnail. ‘I should have
tried harder, I should have made him listen to the truth–’

There was scant sympathy in
Foxy’s voice. ‘Yes, let’s have your version of the truth.’

‘Well–’ Mrs Woosencraft wriggled
her bottom, she scratched behind an ear. ‘Well– It’s like this. You might not
believe it but I was–’

‘There’s a lot I believe today
that I didn’t yesterday, so just tell us,’ Tim said.

His sharp words were a verbal
slap and brought her to her senses. ‘I was on my uppers, stoney broke and Koponen
offered me money. Then I was one cat short, I’d been paid and I’d made a
promise. Whatever you might think I’ve got my standards. I needed nineteen, you
see? Nineteen cats to make it work.’ Her hands dropped into her lap and she
sighed. ‘It all seemed so reasonable at the time. Looking back I can see how I
talked myself into it. I thought it would all be all right, I’d be able to find
Foxy first, we could have our little chat and you could go on your own way. All
sorted out nicely. I never wanted any trouble, it’s all been very upsetting.’